


there’s a room where the light won’t find you

by TheTrillion



Series: Pillars of Bone [4]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Character Study, Gen, Ghost Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), Ghost Wilbur Soot, Hurt/Comfort, Jschlatt-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Piglin Hybrid Wilbur Soot, Pogtopia, Sort Of, The Sky Gods, associated tumblr tag: pillars of bone, character study really, ghostbur but his mental state reflects onto his body, pillars of bone au, post events of nov. 16 on the dream smp, sdjl;fjsadfjlsdajfjds this is straight up an au of an au, wilbur's grave is down in pogtopia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:35:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28622652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTrillion/pseuds/TheTrillion
Summary: “What do you remember?”The question is a constant.“The waters going to rise,”-or: if Wilbur really did forget in pillars of bone
Relationships: Jschlatt & Wilbur Soot
Series: Pillars of Bone [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2081136
Comments: 9
Kudos: 108





	there’s a room where the light won’t find you

**Author's Note:**

> two ghosts chilling and doing ghost things in a dark ravine

.

.

.

“What do you remember?”

The question is a constant.

“The waters going to rise,” Wilbur says, voice oddly calm for all that there’s panic in his eyes and his hand clenches on Schlatt’s sleeve.

He sounds young.

“We should get to higher ground before it reaches us, get to the highest point in the world.”

Schlatt’s chest aches when he breathes in, breathes out. He nods. “Alright, Virgo, lead the way.”

When Wilbur switches his hand from gripping Schlatt’s sleeve to gripping his hands, both their hands are grey.

By the time they get to the highest spot Wilbur had managed to find, he’s already forgotten why they’d gone there.

.

.

.

“What do you remember?” 

“Me and Phil got into a fight,” Wilbur’s hands pull at an unraveling thread on his yellow sweater. There’s dark purple bruises underneath his eyes today. He looks young.

“I cracked another kid’s ribs because he was trying to pick a fight with Techno. Phil wouldn’t stop yelling for hours.”

Schlatt swallows. “Not that, loverboy. What do you remember from yesterday?”

Wilbur is quiet. He has no answer. They don’t talk anymore after that.

It’s been three months since this started.

  
  


.

.

.

“What do you remember?”

The question is useless. Wilbur is young. He refuses to speak. His sharp teeth press against his lips and his tusks have yet to show.

The ravine is dark around them.

“Alright,” Schlatt says, sighing. 

“Alright.”

.

.

.

“What do you remember?”

The response is as sharp as it is fast. 

“You pushed me into it.”

The scars on his cheek and neck are shiny, new. The rest of his face remains mainly untouched.

He’s young.

Schlatt’s lungs feel like they’re deflating. Anger from a decade ago brews in his chest, fed by the reminder of that world.

He pushes it away, swallows it back like bile down his throat.

He’s young, too.

.

.

.

“What do you remember?”

Wilbur is silent for a long time.

“They told me to jump,” he whispers, finally. “So I did.”

Schlatt closes his eyes.

Trail of Bedrock, then.

Wilbur looks so fucking young.

He feels ill, poison boiling through his blood as if he was surrounded once more in that damned van.

Why couldn’t he be the one to always forget?

.

.

.

“What do you remember?”

It’s been six months. They haven’t left the ravine.

“TNT.” Wilbur says, voice shaky and quiet. “I don’t want to go back to the surface. It’s always raining.”

Schlatt breathes in, out. He bites his tongue to keep a sharp comment from budding there.

“Not quite.” He says, instead, as if Wilbur was only off from a few days, maybe a week, and not nearly a decade.

He was sixteen, in that world.

.

.

.

“What do you remember?” 

“I couldn’t see anything but sky,” He murmurs, soft and young and picking the flowers right outside of the ravine.

It’s the first time Schlatt has managed to get him to leave since waters rising.

“You called me Tony,” Wilbur’s hand shake when and the flowers drop through them like they aren’t there. He doesn’t notice.

“You got me killed by that, that  _ thing _ .”

His breath rattles in his chest, staring at Schlatt with his nothing eyes, angry.

Hateful.

.

.

.

Phil finds them in the morning. He lurks in the sides of the ravine, just watching. Wilbur does not notice him. His hands are tangled in his hair, yanking it, trying to use it to cover his ears even though it’s too short. He’s wearing his yellow sweater, like always, but he keeps picking at it as if he wants it gone.

Schlatt swallows, sucks it up, and asks his question.

“What do you remember?”

“It's too loud,” Wilbur groans, falling to his knees, bending over. “It’s  _ cold.” _

Phil takes a step forward. His face looks heartbroken. Schlatt bares his teeth, bristling as if he were a hostile mob and not a docile sheep.

Wilbur falls into his arms. He shakes.

Phil stays in his place. He’s gone an hour later.

.

.

.

Tubbo can’t see him, when he comes to visit. He’s got a bouquet of flowers in his scarred hands and he crumples against Wilbur’s lone, quiet grave.

He sobs.

Wilbur stares at him, standing only a few feet away. His hands are shaking and they keep trying to touch Tubbo, to comfort him. 

He looks burned, everytime they fade before they can even get near.

The dead cannot touch the living. This, they learn the hard way.

.

.

.

They’re thirteen. Wilbur reaches his hand out, desperate, and Schlatt spits at him.

He’s raising the water, he’s doing this, and Schlatt wants nothing to do with him.

The Sky Gods were cruel, when they put the two of them together.

Wilbur is cursed, and Schlatt wants no part in it.

.

.

.

They’re thirteen, still, and Wilbur is shaking in his arms. The world around them is flooded, water lapping up their legs as they kneel in the wet dirt.

Wilbur’s hands are tight in his sweater. Schlatt breathes in, thick as if through syrup, and shudders.

Wilbur begs for him to not leave.

He closes his eyes and agrees.

(he lies)

.

.

.

They’re fourteen, angry. The lava is in Schlatt’s hands and he pushes Wilbur, pours it.

He pretends that his stomach doesn’t twist when nausea when Wilbur screams and squeals in pain, the noise familiar in that it matches the terrifying noises of piglins in the Nether and the all too familiar screaming of his best friend.

He pretends he doesn’t regret it, when Wilbur later stares at him, hateful hateful eyes burning into his soul.

_ Wilbur Soot tried to swim in lava. _

Wilbur brought them to this world. It was only fitting that he was to die first.

(Schlatt doesn’t die, though. He always always wins)

.

.

.

**Author's Note:**

> probably won't touch this much, but it's some writing I came up with right before I decided to have Ghostbur fully remember his memories in pillars of bone and I didn't want to have it just get buried in my doc, never used
> 
> _[Tumblr](https://like-that-one-weird-dog-thing.tumblr.com/)_


End file.
